


clean water, dirty roots

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: sandalphon leaves a lasting impression on aziraphale. gabriel can only heal what's left over
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 29





	clean water, dirty roots

gabriel really doesn't know how he's ended up here. like this, held down by aziraphale's weight with the other angel in his lap, cradling him rather ineffectively - and all on his own sofa, dear god.

his shoulder is clammy, damp with a wetness that's soaked through his suit jacket and shirt. aziraphale hasn't stopped crying for twenty minutes. he must be exhausted by now, wretched and wrecked on his own misery. his throat sore, torn by each little wavering sniffle. gabriel presses him closer with a hand at his scalp, encouraging as much from him as aziraphale is willing to give. better to get the tears out now, in one sitting, than to have another fit when gabriel takes his leave.

"i'm sorry," aziraphale finally announces, wiping his swollen, bloodshot eyes. they're red-rimmed and gently shining, leaving painted streams down his cheeks to glisten in the low lighting. gabriel's thumb twitches. he wants to wipe them clean.

"you have nothing to be sorry for." gabriel states the fact just as it is - a fact. nothing more, lacking any tone of reassurance or comfort. cold, blank. like white paper in a broken printer.

he pauses, and considers things. "water." he says.

aziraphale rubs his eyes, his hand coming away just as tainted and slick as his face. "sorry, what was that?" 

"water. you need water."

aziraphale stares at him, confused and closing in on all the vulnerability he'd had no trouble showing before. gabriel's fist clenches, and he hides it behind his back. he's getting frustrated. he only wants to help, why won't aziraphale let him? it's obvious he still needs more. just let gabriel be the one to fulfill that.

"you're dehydrated. you'll get sick if you don't have any." he eventually explains, tired of aziraphale's silence.

aziraphale nods his head, still unbearably quiet. "oh. thank you."

there's more silence. gabriel shuffles aziraphale off of his lap, searching out wherever the hell a kitchen might be - which is quite a bit harder for someone who never visits earth.

water fills an antique glass. gabriel focuses on the steady cooling of his fingers where he grips onto it. that's easier than focusing on anything else.

"here," he brings it back to aziraphale like a mother animal carries food to their offspring. though clasped within his hand, as opposed to in his jaw, it still feels like just as much of an offering. aziraphale takes it, and gives him a weak smile in return. so gentle, so kind. so _afraid._

gabriel can't get sick. but nevertheless, he's ill with something.

watching aziraphale carefully, gabriel takes seat in the chair opposite to him. enough space between them to breathe easy, light pouring in from the window creating a golden bridge to flood the empty space. gabriel scoots his feet in closer to himself. he wouldn't dare encroach on a boundary delivered by god.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

aziraphale grips the glass tighter, a hasty flinch. "pardon?"

"about what happened. you know. in detail."

gabriel's teeth clink in his mouth. his tongue slots between sets of molars, and bears the brunt of his brewing nerves. clenched down upon, bit into with force to hurt. he regrets - only slightly - having chosen those words.

he tries to make reparations. "i mean, you don't have to tell me everything. it'd just be nice to know a little more. i don't need specifics."

his waving hand brushes off guilt like dry lint. yet he still can't bring his eyes to catch aziraphale's own. the intimacy feels sinful, _inappropriate_ for what's taken place in this very home. he bites his tongue again. it tastes like hot salt. _blood._

"i'm scared he's still watching." aziraphale admits. "that he'll hurt me if i tell anyone, or hurt you - "

gabriel sharpens, falling into his natural role. "aziraphale, it's my job to worry about you, not the other way around. speaking logistically, he _can't_ hurt me. he wouldn't even try."

aziraphale's hesitance slowly dims, growing less and less severe with every tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. by the look of it, that poor thing is most likely only being held together by a miracle and achingly old wood. gabriel has to wonder what aziraphale sees in surrounding himself with things so easily broken. some of them even about to break. but that's not a question for right now. not unless aziraphale wants it to be.

"all i remember," aziraphale starts, sounding more like the last putting cough of a life support machine than a human being. that being said, he isn't human. he's a poor impression of one at best. but there are _some_ standards to the whole charade.

"all i remember was him coming to the bookshop. he wouldn't say what he was there for, just brushed it off as - as a routine check in."

"and i felt sick. i could tell something wasn't right. but he wouldn't - he wouldn't leave me alone. he kept getting really touchy. and i - i wanted to throw up, every time his hands - every time he - "

aziraphale shudders, his knees pulling upwards. curved into his chest, pushing out with every soft inhale. gabriel's wrist burns with a genuine itch. he wants to reach out, wants to curl into that cautious agony, and stroke the depths of it from aziraphale's mind with a hand on the nape of his neck. but he can't touch him. he shouldn't. he _shouldn't._

"it's alright. you don't have to say anything more." he says instead.

aziraphale nods solemnly, gathering himself. "next thing i remember is just waking up, and everything hurting. especially, well, you know, down _there._ "

"i know." gabriel assures him. he doesn't want to hear more than that. it's selfish, but he can barely take what he's already heard.

"is there anything else i can do for you?"

aziraphale piques with shame, bubbling over as he mutters, "perhaps it wouldn't trouble me to be held again." under his breath.

and gabriel's heart weighs firm like a rigid rock, heavy in his chest. his ribs don't quite break under the strain; he treads over the sunlit barrier, and gives aziraphale peace of mind - the sanctity and safe haven of a body to protect his own.

quite terribly, and licking 'round the edges of a certain cardinal sin, like flame to a stove trap, he wants to kiss aziraphale.

even worse, he wants aziraphale to kiss him back.

**Author's Note:**

> if ur venting thru projection via fic clap ur hands


End file.
